A Game of Fate
by FrUK Seasons
Summary: Luck; it's just not in England's favor. Either he's losing his battles, losing his loved ones, or just plain losing his mind. But, can an alleged promise of a visit from a certain Frenchman turn that around? Or is Arthur about to lose hope as well?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_A Test of Fate_

Why must fate always play me a trick card? Lead me in the wrong direction; the wrong path? I ask myself this often, as it just seems that no matter what I do, I can't change my luck. Either I'm losing my battles, losing my loved ones, or just plain losing my mind. Truly, what more could you expect from an island Country? England, to be precise. I've never been the most popular among the others, likely to do with my... Unique personality. Yes, I can be a bit eccentric at times, but that doesn't make me a bad guy, does it..? Well, I suppose it doesn't matter anyhow; I am who I am, and I'm not willing to change for the likes of anyone, not even_ him_. Who, you ask? Why that bloody bastard of a Frenchman, Francis. Why must he insist on being such an absolute pest all the time? Showing up whenever I'd rather not see him, which is all the time, or just going out of his way to be a complete and utter git. Oh yes, he tries to reel you in with that smooth accent of his, or those ocean-blue eyes, but it doesn't work on me. No, not ever, nor will it in all my exist-!

"Yo, England! Didn't you hear me? It's your turn, bro." My thoughts, or perhaps ranting, was abruptly cut off by America. How had I so easily forgotten I was in a meeting? Clearing my throat, indeed now a bit embarrassed, I responded.

"Of course I heard you! I'll speak when I'm good and damn ready." Though my tone held asperity, more than anything, it was due to my fluster. What exactly was I to talk about? Nothing very interesting had occured lately. And, what had was nothing I'd likely feel comfortable to discuss in front of the entire world, so to speak.

"In truth, there hasn't been a lot going on in my country as of late, so... That's all." I quickly finished my turn, not in the mood to fish around my mind for stupid events that would be forgotten by the others before the next Country even spoke.

The meeting went by absolutely lazily. I swear I could count the individual seconds tick away on the clock that hung across from me on the large room's wall. But, to my and undoubtedly many of the other Countries relief, it was finally concluded by a certain almost unhealthily exuberant American.

"Thank God it's finally over..." I mumbled mostly to myself, though characteristically, France overheard my quiet words.

"Aw, come'on Arthur, it wasn't that bad~ You were able to sit next to moi that whole time; surely that eased your boredom." With a playful smile and that oh so charmingly annoying tone of his, he poked fun at me, which only caused me to feel all the more bitter towards him.

"N-not at all! If fact, it made me all the more eager to leave." My eyes narrowed ever so slightly as I glared at the older blonde, my tone having carried a hiss to it. But, however much I tried to insult him, he only seemed to smile more.

"Just keep telling yourself that, mon petite chaton~" He chimed in a purr, accompanied by a wink. At both his actions and his words, I felt my face heat up in the tell-tale sign of a serious blush.

"S-shut up!" Was my rather lame reply, but really, what else was I to say? If I denied it, he'd only continue to tease. His response was a light shrug, and a soft chuckle, only irking me all the more.

"Très bien... But, I wanted to let you know that I'll be stopping off at your house later this week. I hope you don't mind." My initial response was the perplexed expression I could feel spreading across my face without my permission. He was actually telling me he was planning a visit? But why..?

"No... I mean, yes, I do! Why the hell are you even asking?!" Furrowing my brows, I sent a second searing glare his way, only to be returned with yet another broad smile.

"No reason, I suppose... Expect me at your house, Angleterre~" With a final small laugh, likely because of my obviously confused expression, he exited the meeting room, leaving me to puzzle over why I was even the tiniest bit happy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_It's Always a Waiting Game_

The whistle of the kettle brought me back to reality, having previously been lost in thought.

"I guess I should go turn that off..." I murmered to myself, getting off the couch I had plopped down on just minutes before. France had failed to show up so far this week; it was Friday, and the meeting had taken place last Saturday. Truly, I'd given up on the possibility he was even coming. He'd likely found his week's schedule much too busy to find time for me. But, the question remaining that I just couldn't seem to answer was, why do I even care? It's not as if I particularly enjoy his visits... But, do I hate them as much as I proclaim?

"Stop dwelling, Arthur... It's France. He probably told me he was coming just so he could get my hopes up..." Blinking, I nearly smacked myself. Get my hopes up? What the hell was I saying? No, it didn't matter if France was to come or not! He couldn't put a damper in my mood; not a chance in bloody hell. Yet... I could already feel the bitterness begin to nip at my heart as I found myself once more in my kitchen.

"Whatever... I'll just know never to believe a word out of his mouth again." I stated in an angry mumble, fixing myself a cup of tea. Surely that would calm my nerves some. But, to my surprise, I'd somehow prepared two cups.

"What the-..?" Yet another surprise; I'd been interrupted by the chime of my doorbell. Giving one last perplexed glance towards the second cup I'd unknowingly made, I left the room to go see who had so suddenly decided to visit.

_Francis..?_ I thought hopefully, though the emotion caused my displeasure. Opening the door with a sigh of disappointment, I saw the man standing there was not the blonde haired Frenchman I'd been expecting. Instead, it was America, an excited aura about him, along with that broad grin of his.

"Hey Iggy!~" He greeted, my eye twitching at the name he'd so casually called me.

"I've told you over and over not to call me that! Now, why are you here?" I inquired sourly, though clearly it didn't seem to effect Alfred in the least.

"Dude, I _had_ to come over! There's this awesome new video game I just bought, and I thought maybe-" Before he'd even finished the sentence, I'd slammed the door in his face.

"No America, I'm not in the mood to have you clinging all over me while you're playing one of those blasted horror games." I could practically feel his unhappiness through the door at my quick response.

"Come'on Iggy... Japan's busy, and I really want someone-"

"No." Again, I cut him off. I didn't have time for this childishness from him; his pouting, or otherwise. I could hear him linger outside my door as if I might just miraculously open it and agree, but eventually he slunk away, obviously moping.

"That Alfred... I swear he needs to grow up one of these days. Life isn't always rainbows and unicorns." With a heavy sigh, I walked back to my kitchen in silence, my heart only feeling all the more heavy. France really wasn't coming, was he? Right as I was about to finish the tea, the doorbell once again echoed throughout my house. Rolling my eyes, I made my way _back_ to the door.

"I swear America, I thought I made myself-..." I stopped mid-sentence as it wasn't America at my door; it was my older sister, Ireland.

"Oi, what's this about America?" She asked, raising a brow in question.

"O-oh... Ah, nothing. He was just trying to get me to play another one of those video games with him." I explained, rubbing the back of my neck a bit sheepishly. It might have been smart to see who it was before I began ranting behind the door.

"I see~" With a lighthearted chuckle, she flashed me a sharp grin.

"By the way, why are you here?" Her expression became rather humored at my question, only making me feel all the more stupid.

"What? I can't just come to visit my baby brother every once in awhile?" She asked, giving a mock pout before laughing yet again.

"Oh Arthur, you never change." I moved out of the way, allowing her into my home.

"Clean as usual..." Her finger trailed the wall as she took note of my near-immaculate abode, her eyes gazing around almost crucially.

"In fact, it looks even more tidy than it normally does. Were you expecting someone?" Her emerald gaze slid back to me, a knowing look in those vibrant green orbs of hers.

"N-no... Er, well, maybe..." I struggled to answer, and that clearly caught her attention.

"What? You were, weren't you? May I ask who?" Her grin widened, a teasing tone beginning to become audible behind her Irish-accented voice.

"Shut your bloody mouth, and stop that grinning! Your face will get stuck like that." Crossing my arms, I answered in a huff, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

"Hm... The way you're acting makes me think it was that Francis fellow, am I right?" Her guess sent a small shiver down my spine; was it really that obvious?

I remained silent as we entered my living room, too flustered at the moment to give her a good response. Sitting down, she looked up at me expectantly.

"Well then..? Was I right, Arthur?" She prompted, a moment later I joining her on the couch.

"Perhaps you were..." With a heavy sigh, I buried my face in my hands, the soft smile my sister was now inevitably wearing being heard through her tone as she spoke once more.

"I thought so." Her hand combed through my hair with a gentle brush of her fingers, something she'd often done when trying to comfort me when we were younger; all the same, it seemed to help.

"He... I shouldn't have even believed him... He's a fucking liar, and I should've remembered that..." Moving that delicate hand of hers to my back, she rubbed it reassuringly, obviously pitying me in some manner.

"Don't worry about it too much... Francis can be quite an ass sometimes; we all know that." She reminded me softly, though I'd kept that thought clear in my mind since I'd first met the boasting Frenchman. But seriously, what the hell was up with me? Why was I even upset? It was really beginning to bother me...


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Unexpected Yet Expected Company_

After a while of catching up, Ireland left my home, I returning to the couch I'd left to accompany her to my door and give my final farewells.

"That was pleasant," I commented aloud, really speaking to no one but myself as it seemed even my friends weren't around to talk. It was very quiet in the room. Not even the pitter-patter of raindrops against my house stilled the eerily silent air. Shifting uncomfortably, I gazed around, a tiny bit of wariness weaseling it's way into my heart. What was it I was afraid of, the silence? That was ridiculous. But now that I thought about, maybe it _wouldn't_ have been so bad, America being here. At least he was company, albeit as loud and obnoxious as he could be at times. But however many times I deny it, I must admit I care for the idiot.

"Maybe I'll give him a call..." Murmering the words to break the ongoing silence, I hesitantly reached for the phone, but my hand stopped a moment before touching the device.

"The tea... I should clean that up before inviting him here, or going over to his place; whichever works, I suppose." Getting off the couch, I walked to the kitchen, purposely stepping just a little heavier so I had something to listen to other than the nothing that wanted to linger. However, upon arriving there, a short gasp escaped my throat; the second cup of tea wasn't where I'd left it. Instead, it sat on the edge of my much-too-large-for-only-myself table, completely empty.

"W-what's this now..?" Shakily, I picked up the cup, eyes wide and likely frightened, as my heartbeat was beginning to quicken.

"Flying mint bunny...? Uni?" Looking around, I saw neither the small, flying, mint colored rabbit, nor the mischievous horned horse. What was this?

"Now, if you guys are trying to play some sort of bloody trick on me, I swear to God I'll beat your furry little arses!" I threatened, but was given no response. Only silence met my ears. I placed the cup down on the counter where I'd originally had it, now quite shaken up. Who had done this? If it wasn't my friends, nor ghosts, as I could see them just as easily as fairies, then who the hell was drinking my tea without my knowledge?! But, before I could figure this whole bewildering mess out, a hand was placed on my shoulder. Much to my displeasure and embarrassment, I screamed like one of those stupid girls in Alfred's horror movies, the action from whoever it was as scary to me as surprising. With quick movements, the person behind me placed another hand over my mouth, silencing my outburst. I desperately wanted to turn around, to see who it was covering my mouth; whose hand was slowly wrapping around my torso... Hot breath on my- _Francis_. It had to be France. With a muffled cry of indignation, I furrowed my brows, the hand moving to allow me to speak.

"What the fucking hell are you doing here?!" I asked in exasperation as well as anger. Who the hell did he think he was, sneaking around my house like some wayward spirit?

"I said I'd be here this week, now didn't I?" He asked me teasingly, his smirk quite apparent in his words.

"Yes, but I didn't... You weren't supposed to do_ that_! Bloody frog..." It occurred to me I hadn't yet removed myself from his arms, and my face, of course, heated into a crimson blush. But before I could manage to attempt anything, he spoke once more.

"Now I never told you _how_ I was to visit. I could've done anything I pleased, with such a plethora of options. But, I decided to do as I normally do. I would've expected you to be used to this by now, Angleterre~" With a brush of his lips against my ear, he purred my name, only causing me even more fluster.

"S-shut up..!" With a huff, I pulled myself from the other's grasp, turning around to face him with as hard a glare as I could manage, as worked up as I was.

"When you said you'd be paying me a visit, I'd _assumed_ you meant it'd be acted out correctly. You know, knock on the door, or perhaps ring the doorbell, waiting at my porch like a _normal_ guest." At his humored smile in response to my complaining, I could practically feel my cheeks melting with the heat they had accumulated. Why did he always make me feel like an idiot when surely I was right?

"But Angleterre... Where's the fun in that? Look how much cuter you're acting, since I decided to surprise you," He pointed out, not that I hadn't already figured as much. To him, my embarrassment was apparently something to find adorable, which seriously annoyed the hell out of me.

"Whatever, you ninny..." I halfheartedly mumbled back in reply, adding a relenting sigh; he was here, and he _had_ kept to his word. That much I should've been content with.

"Now, now... No need for name-calling. At least, not tonight~" His words were lighthearted, tone smooth and, I must regrettably admit, beautiful. Though, I'd never tell him that.

"Tonight..?" Looking at the clock in my kitchen, I furrowed my brows. It was a little past six, so it was basically nighttime. Wait, did he plan to stay..? I hadn't even prepared a room... Before I could trouble myself too long on the matter, France spoke up once more; Apparently my worries had been more visible than I'd assumed.

"Don't worry, Angleterre. I won't be staying." He assured, then gave a sly smile.

"That is, unless you want me to~" At that, I could feel my eyes widen a bit, the horrid fluster from before coming back with a vengeance.

"I-I... Appreciate you're offer, but N-no thanks, Francis." My words were shaky, likely from surprise, but carried with them my usual sarcastic tone. Did he really expect to just waltz in here and get himself a pleasure trip? No way. I wasn't about to let him take advantage of me.

"Too bad... I would've loved your company, as my schedule's free for... The rest of my life, if only for you." Blinking, it took me a moment to process Francis's words. The older blonde before me looked quite serious, though I pushed it aside as his usual humor.

"Very funny... Now, would you like some tea?" Quickly, I changed the subject, yet it seemed not to bother France at all. Surely, he must've been messing around.

"Sure... My last cup was a bit cool for my taste." His lips curled into a smile once more, I giving him a disapproving glance as I began to busy myself with the task, having not waited too long to start. That Frenchman... He was the kind of guy that I wanted to punch, yet... Yet kiss, all at the same time.

"Ass." I muttered under my breath, now Francis not only annoying me, but those unexpected feelings as well. Where had they come from so suddenly?

_You're lying to yourself. They've always been there._ A voice whispered in my head, causing me to nearly drop the new cups I was fetching from the cabinet. What did it mean "always there"? Surely I was still worked up. France _had_ scared me pretty badly, though I'd never admit it to him. It was only my imagination playing tricks on me, making me think things that weren't true - that weren't real.

I stole a glance at the older blonde, trying to seem casual - I didn't want him to know I was giving him a damn second of my time unless I absolutely had to, and that didn't include peeking at him when he wasn't looking. He was now contenting himself to lean against my wall, looking around absently at a few things lining my kitchen walls.

_If only those blue eyes were looking my- what the hell am I thinking?! _The thoughts, this time were undeniably mine. Yet, I truly wished they weren't. Why was I still staring like this? He'd notice, and then-

"Angleterre..? Is something wrong? You've been picking out cups for a while now." Something in his voice told me that wasn't the only thing he saw me doing.

"I'm fine with any cup, really. No need to find the perfect one." He added, a soft and slightly amused smile appearing on his face. I could feel that increasingly annoying blush appear on my cheeks, though, thank God, it wasn't bad this time around.

"O-of course... I was just, uh, trying to find the worst one to give to you, but sadly all my cups are in fine condition." Such a quick lie, but what else could I have done to keep him from being suspicious? If he _hadn't _seen me staring, then it was likely to work well enough, and possibly get him to keep that bloody mouth of his zipped. But, no such luck would I have.

"Oh? And that's why you had to look at me for the longest time? I suppose you were comparing each and every cup to my gorgeous face, then?" His words made me feel like an idiot, and likely I looked like one too as I stood there silent, unable to spat another lie. Not because my conscious caught up with me, but due to my very much apparent fluster. Hurriedly, I drew my gaze away, grabbing the second cup from the cabinet and returning to making the tea. To my surprise, he didn't tease me further, instead seeming happy enough with a soft laugh and an evident smile - I didn't even have to look at him to know he was.

_What's wrong with me..? I hate feeling like this; so confused... _Closing my eyes, a small sigh escaped my lips. This wasn't like me. At least, not when I was alone. Or with Alfred or Kiku, or anyone else for that matter. No, there were no feelings there - no more than I should feel towards a friend. It was only with France.

_You're in love, Arthur. If you can't see that, you're as stupid as America, and oblivious as Spain. _That voice again, it spoke with such certainty, it left my head reeling.

_In love? There's no way... Not with him!_ But, no matter how much I denied it; how much I resented it, it was true. I'd known it for a while now, though never fully. Just a small ache of my heart when I saw Francis flirting with someone, or heard him boasting about his "amazing night" with some person he'd managed to seduce - not like it was difficult for him. Lately though, the ache hadn't been so small. No, it had felt more like someone was squeezing the poor organ until it could beat no longer. Though the pain was emotional and not physical, it hurt just as badly as any flesh wound could, and pierced just as deeply as a sword. Funny, how we fought so many battles, so many including swords, including I getting jabbed straight through, though it never hurt as much as this.

_But he doesn't love me... He doesn't, because we're enemies, right? We're only friendly with each other when we're forced to be... We're supposed to hate each other, but I went and fell in love with the damned man. _Unbeknownst to me, tears began to slowly trickle down my cheeks, just a few, and silently. No noise accompanied these tears; tears of frustration and pain. That Frenchman... He'd pulled me in just like everyone else. But I was different - I wouldn't give in to such a pointless feeling, this love I harbored. It would only cause me more heartache than I already held. He'd get what he wanted from me and leave. leave me all alone in this empty house, only to look back and wish-

_Arms..? _My eyes snapped open as arms wrapped around me, making me realize my crying had escalated to a bitter sobbing, surely I being loud enough for France, who was now cradling me in a reassuring embrace, to notice. My first reaction was to pull away, but he held me close regardless, I eventually giving up and just crying into his shirt.

This was embarrassing. How had I slipped up like this? I could've waited until he'd left, to cry like an idiot. Now I just looked pathetic and weak, and most of all, so very fragile, all for the Frenchman to see.

"Shh, shh... It'll be alright, mon cher..." He murmered to me as I just couldn't seem to get those damned tears to stop rolling down my cheeks. Luckily, and to my surprise, it seemed his gentle coaxing eventually slowed the sobs, eventually all that remained as evidence of my breakdown the lingering flush on my cheeks.

But, even as I stood there, no longer crying, I remained in his arms. I didn't fight his hold, nor would I - this would be the closet I'd ever get to him before I would be forced to send him away, and never speak to him again unless I was obligated to at a meeting. It would leave the both of us better off. Especially me.

"Would you like to tell me why you began to cry when making tea?" His voice broke the silence, though I'd been expecting such a question.

_I can't say, and it's in both of our best interests. That is why I must say goodbye Francis, as this will be the last time I speak to you out of a meeting. _I had every word planned out, the tone of my voice, the way in which I'd deliver said message, yet... It failed to come out. I didn't want him to leave now, much less forever. How different my life would be without the older blonde.

"I..." There it was, the first word to begin this final farewell. The beginning of the end of our relationship, whatever the hell it had been. We were never friends, but we weren't truly enemies either. How could we be, if we weren't always hostile towards each other?

"I can't... Do this anymore." That sentence... Where had it come from? My body seemed to move on it's own, I feeling as if I really no longer had a say on what I could or couldn't do. My lips met his, and the first and last thing I managed to capture were his beautiful azure eyes widening in surprise before my own closed. Slowly, however, I realized he hadn't yet pushed me away. No - he was kissing me back, arms wrapping around my waist as mine snaked around his neck, grasping those long, silky blonde locks of his. The kiss, starting so soft, was slowly turning to one of deep love, heated passion, and a mix of feelings I couldn't and didn't care to name. All I knew is that it felt so _right, _those lips pressed to mine. Teeth clashing as our hunger for each other grew, nipping and biting lustrously, tongues battling for dominance. It had all happened so quickly, but I was much too invested to stop now. No, there was no way I could stop even if I wanted to - I had no control anymore. But I didn't want to stop, not now.

Something was behind me now, cool and hard; the wall. In our flurrish, we'd moved, the new position giving France more footing in our battle. His hands moved from my waste, sneaking under my shirt to run over my bare skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

_More... Give me more!_ I pressed forward, giving the Frenchman's tongue a nip, to tell him to quit the teasing. Though the muscle retreated shortly, it seemed to have little effect on him as he only explored my body more methodically. Without hesitation, I did what I thought would get him to procede more quickly. My own hand moved downward, leaving the other to continue in it's passionate clutch of the blonde's hair, and stopped over the Frenchman's groin. Not too lightly, I gave the area an experimental squeeze, gaining a groan from the other who seemed to finally get the message. Swiftly, he unbuttoned and removed my shirt, my breath running short as the kiss had not yet been broken for air. Soon enough, I began to feel lightheaded, yet I didn't want to end it. As if France somehow knew this, he did the it instead, ending our embrace, though surely it wouldn't be the last for the night.

"Bedroom... Where..?" The words were heavily interrupted by his panting, though I couldn't even muster a response due to my lack of breath. Instead, I motioned towards where my room was, and before I had any time to complain, he lifted me into his arms and strode off in the direction of said room.

* * *

**Author's Note;**

****Don't think I'm done yet! Decided I might as well write my first lemon, sooo... Well, this'll be continued tomorrow.


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